Through the Red Door Blog

In AS BILL SEES It, we read; “Honesty with ourselves and others gets us sober, but it is tolerance that keeps us that way” (312). I do not wish to disagree with Bill, but, in today’s world, the world “tolerate” has more negative baggage than perhaps in the past. All too often we tolerate the inappropriate behavior or language of a family member, a friend, a coworker, because we do not want to “start a fuss,” we don’t want to “embarrass them” with a confrontation, privately or otherwise, of their behavior.

It is not helpful to me or another person to be tolerant. People have died -- mentally, emotionally, physically -- because of tolerance of their inappropriate behavior or language. We “put up with” them because, when the person is sober, “he’s a lot of fun. He is really a nice guy. She would be embarrassed if she knew what she did.” And so, we continue the sickness of a secret through our tolerance.

For the life of me, I wonder how people tolerated my behavior; that I celebrated the Eucharist while at least three sheets to the wind and did not remember if I preached or read the gospel. I have been told of many “wonderful services” I celebrated, and I have no memory of them.

As I began to enjoy this life of sobriety and review my past behavior under the influence of alcohol and or other drugs, it fascinated me that my only memory of being confronted was my being told, “Séamus, you’re an alcoholic.” That simple statement, said to me by a person I greatly respected, stuck with me through my drinking and till today. That was the only “confrontation” I can remember. Fortunately, in sobriety, I have learned about aspects of my past negative behavior, and I wonder if I could have been saved some heartache if I had been confronted.

Unfortunately, I have lost those whom I once thought were friends because, out of respect for them, I chose to talk to them about their behavior when they were under the influence of alcohol and or other drugs. They said they appreciated what I told them but said,“it’s none of your business.” It was my business as their behavior was embarrassing to me and others. Out of respect for them I spoke to them in private and they chose, as I probably did, to ignore it.

When I reviewed my fourth step, I felt embarrassed and wondered “Why was nothing said to me at the time? Why was my inappropriate behavior tolerated?  Did they not care enough about me to confront me? I also had to consider the possibility of being confronted, and I have no memory of it. Was my behavior and my attitudes tolerated in a way that I would not tolerate in another? When I got around to doing a fourth step, I had not lost a home, a car, or employment, etc. What I came to grips with was that what I had lost was something more valuable - my values. It was sickening to look at that fourth step and wonder how I had gotten away with such behavior. I felt embarrassed at the thought of others being aware of my behavior and remaining silent.

I too am guilty of tolerating inappropriate behavior for a variety of excuses but no good reason. As I see it, I did not have enough respect for myself or the other to have a conversation with the individual and then give then the space to consider what they might choose to do.

When I tolerate inappropriate behavior or language, I put up with it; I endure it; I stomach it (and if I do that long enough, I get ulcers). When I respect another, I admire them; I hold them in esteem, I have a high opinion of them.

Today, I have to take a deeper look at why I may tolerate the behavior of another. Or will I risk losing that person because I respect them and I am willing to lose them by telling them something they may need to hear but do not want to hear it? All of this, to me, gives a new meaning to “I’ll be there for you.”

Do I give what I can and be done with it? Do I have to believe somehow my gift really might help him? What if he is really disheveled or reeks of alcohol or can barely stand up? Do I just willy-nilly throw away my own hard-earned money to the same beggars every day?

For guidance, I looked at the Program. I know we are called to carry its message of hope and grace. I also know the Program expects us to keep carrying the same message to the same person regardless of whether he stops abusing alcohol. I know from personal experience after carrying the message that I wondered if they really did hear it. They may have said so. They may make all the right signs of deciding to quit. But, deep inside, often as it was with me, they would secretly reserve the right to go back out, playing the game bit by bit – no real surrender. Practicing alcoholics are strange critters!  

Are there any limits to the time one spends carrying the message of the Program? Is there a rule that says that if the inmate has more than XXX number of DUI tickets, he can’t leave his cell to again hear about the Program’s good news?

Would the Program shed any light on my question? Of course, I found it did. If I am stuck with a decision about something, I should, but don’t always, seek guidance from my Higher Power. What would He say to that street corner beggar? You bet he would say, “Give, don’t attached strings to your gift. It’s the Grace of the Program, just like the Program was carried to you several times before you really did something about it.”

I believe there is no limit to the time we spend carrying the Message. The offer is always open, no time limit on it. And I believe this is so regardless of the results. We’re not judged on how many people we convert to the ways of the Program. We simply tell them what it has meant to our lives; how we are given tools to better work our way through life’s bump and pits. The Program makes it clear that it is a program of attraction rather than promotion. And we learn from experience that it is only through constant daily contact with the workings of the Program and our Higher Power that we are able to have a chance to maintain the serenity in our lives the Program brings.

So, it is from God’s perspective. For me, the Program’s Higher Power is God manifested to us by Jesus of Nazareth. God is always with the beggar just as He is with us. Always, not now and then, but always. That’s His Grace. Christ teaches us to reach out to the poor, downhearted, prostitutes … and beggars.  Just as we continually carry the message of the Program, so too, are we to carry the same message of our Higher Power of hope and Grace by honoring the street corner beggar’s request. Can we turn down Christ who speaks as that beggar and is always of that beggar?   

JRA St X Noon

On January 3, I voluntarily decided to surrender my car-keys and sell my car … this at age 83, and a young 83 I add, and following 67 years of a fairly clean driving. Me, Jim A, St X Noon, decided to do this. I did it myself. I didn’t want any intervention laid on me. I loved to drive, always did. Loved cars and a variety of styles and makes. As a pre-teen kid, I studied the free Standard Oil gas station road maps, so when I started to drive, I was pretty good getting around in a car, even the unlit, dark, rural country roads in England. But on the 1stof January, I was feeling uncomfortable driving. It just wasn’t the fun it used to be, and I was 83 and had had open-heart surgery, my recovery period a bigger trip than I anticipated. Moreover, I wasn’t going to play the “poor-me-bit” which could have arisen with a forced car-key surrender. But that morning, having decided to hang ‘em up, I realized I faced a load of nits & nats to solve, all centered around how much of my “freedom-to-drive anywhere” lifestyle was I going to be able to retain? I certainly didn’t want my wife to become my all-purpose taxi driver, nor did she wish that fate.

To solve this quandary, for some reason, probably my Higher Power’s work, I looked at our 12 Steps that very morning and discovered The Steps had already outlined the very path to do just that. Maybe it takes a bit of fiddling to meld my car-key issues with the Step’s action words, but surely, one can see the Step’s innate spirt and wisdom. So, and without delay, here’s how I used the Steps.

Steps 1, 2 and 3—I decided to quit my addiction (my driving) now and did so avoiding the familiar risks of the half-quit. I’d tried that with my addiction and sooner or later I eased back into the old ways. So, with my driving, I knew I had to “give it up” all at once, not on a test basis, not halfway (day-driving only!). As with any change like this, I am re-learning the importance of a nurturing expansion of my spiritual life. Also, I see that my feelings of aging spill over to the importance of a couple’s daily lives and the changes brought on merely by the inevitable aging process.

Steps 4, 5 and 6—I made “to do” lists. Specifically, what did I have to change to achieve the goal? The list includes all things driving gave me—freedom to meet friends for lunch, regular visits with my somewhat challenged sister, going to St. X Noon meetings, runs to the library for more books, a freedom to continue my charitable activities, just driving around seeing new stuff. My list, however, this time centered on the positives, not addiction’s negatives. For 50 years, I’d developed personal relations with fellow attorneys, and after retiring, expanded the scope of my friends. I wanted all of that to continue. So, with the help of the gadget-oriented world of electronic products, I figured I could do so. And with the assistance of my kids, I am learning all I need to know to get out and see people “on my own” via UBER, ZOOM, GOOGLE, AMAZON, laptops, FACEBOOK, emails, KROGERS, all the new online shopping opportunities, home-delivery food markets, restaurants, and most every commercial operation claims to have this service.

Steps 7, 8, 9 and 10—These were simple steps to follow. I told my family that each new way I was going to follow to get around was going to be subject to review. I wanted to be independent as much as possible, but if a change of mode of transportation didn’t work, following a review thereof by thoughtful face-to-face family discussions and spiritual study, I’d try whatever way came to the surface.

Steps 11 and 12—Yes, none of this would have been possible without developing a spiritual life, cultivated by readings and attendance at Bible study groups and Program meetings—a way of walking with our Higher Power through life’s adventures. Several thought what I was doing was good for my soul, my family’s feelings, and personal friendships. They saw the worth in keeping with the Twelve Step framework. I promised myself, I’d pass along how nicely the Twelve Steps fit my process of giving-up-my-car-keys. I am once again grateful for my Higher Power and the Program of Alcoholics Anonymous. … I kept coming back to it.  

JRA St X Noon

In the Book of Genesis, Joseph is in Egypt and has been placed in charge of the coming famine. The Pharaoh tells the Egyptians, “Go to Joseph and do whatever he tells you.”

When I was in treatment (a century ago), I can still remember the counselor tell the group – and me in particular – “get a sponsor and do what he tells you.” Baloney. Anyone can stay sober. Why do you need a sponsor? I don’t particularly like being told what to do. Now, I don’t have an authority problem. Ahem!

When I told the director I wanted to go to treatment, he phoned the Adult Unit and then told me to go down the street and admit myself. I went home and showed up at the treatment center some four hours later.

I can look back at a history of being told what to do and then either doing the opposite or “doing it my way.”  Throughout high school, the rules I kept were those that showed me in a good light. All others I bent or broke – and for some reason, perhaps because of my charm or arrogance or both – I got away with it. And that was long before I took a drink of alcohol or any mood-altering drug.

The arrival of alcohol in my system only solidified my knowledge that I did not need to be told what to do by anyone. Like the child learning to ride the bicycle, I insisted, “I can do it myself.”

I did it my way and spent five weeks in a four-week treatment program. Anyone else might have been asked to leave, but I was also an employee of the hospital that owned the treatment program.

After treatment I was assigned to an Aftercare program in which I thrived on telling the counselor just how good a job I was doing in the program. I was working the steps (my way); I was going to more meetings than anyone in the group – just so I could look good. And yes, I had not one but two sponsors. Well, sort of. You see, there were these two guys who took me under their wing and kept me on the straight and narrow till I finished that year in Aftercare.

I did what they told me to do. I read the Big Book and memorized lines I could then quote at a meeting. I went to meetings two and three times a day and talked so that others could learn from me. Oh yes, I was brilliant!! I did what I was told to do but for all the wrong reasons.

After almost five years of a dry drunk, I had my spiritual awakening. The threat of the possibility of losing everything due to bankruptcy clarified one thing for me – I had something that could not be taken away from me – sobriety. At least I thought I was sober. At any rate, at this point I did not want to go back to drinking. I has smoked in order to fit in; I drank in order to fit-in. God only knows what else I did in order to ‘fit in” But I belonged in A.A. I did not fully understand that, but I belonged there. I didn’t fit in. I belonged.

Talk to God, to your Higher Power, and do what He (She) tells you to do. Do the next right thing.  Something had changed in me. I was listening for the first time in my life. I learned to live the program and not just work the steps. Rigorous honesty brought me face to face with myself, my character defects, all of me, warts and all, and I learned to love who I am.

Without being consciously aware of it initially, I was learning to do what I was told to do. The program works if you work (live) it. And that work/life involves doing what the winners told me to do. They told me what to do by word and example, and more often than not, it was their example that spoke the loudest to me. I listened to what I saw and what I saw was what I wanted in life – sobriety, peace of mind, happiness, freedom from fear, freedom from regret, shame and guilt. These were people who were at peace with themselves, at one (atone) because of Amends making, and that was what I wanted.

“Go to Joseph and do whatever he tells you.”  “Joseph” was, for me, those who took me under their wing; those who told me what to do by word and example; my Greater Power/God, and for all of them I am grateful.

Séamus D.

Greater New Orleans, LA

I realize the opening day of this New Year was merely a Saturday turning into Sunday, but it really isn’t merely that. It’s the start of a new year—fresh crisp new calendars, maybe a new job or effective date of a promotion, or maybe we view it as an opportunity for a fresh start. Right or wrong, I tend to look at the year’s end as a time of looking back, of answering that old question, “What did I do last year?” Well, our employers may answer that question, but am I not called as a member of our society to look at “what I have done” for our Program this year?  Have I “practiced the Twelve Steps in all [my] our affairs?” 2022 will note several years of recovery for me. While looking bank, I’m afraid I have fallen short—blaming the continuation of present difficult medical realities is an easy excuse. But let’s face it, the prevalence of the ZOOM - ing AA meetings doesn’t do the job. The Program works in part, maybe a large part at that, because of the personal daily contact of the meetings themselves with like-minded folks. It’s not just the newly struggling people, those who are fighting present difficulties or seeking some relief from the stress of it all. It’s the chance to look at the faces, for we need to acknowledge that most communication is non-verbal. We miss that important element of our meetings. Some of us, and let’s be honest, the ZOOM process gives us too much of an easy opportunity to block the screening and audio of ourselves—for a quick cup of coffee or answer the telephone or converse with our spouse, even read a newspaper while merely listening to the comments with “half an ear” of attention. So, in typical AA teachings, I must give my attention to the issue of “What am I going to do about it?” Well, we can’t violate the mandates for the gathering of people given the pandemic. I must follow the medical opportunities to insulate myself. I find I must sometimes look for new meetings. Some new ones aren’t scheduled in the “Where and When’s” or located how I wish. Sometimes meetings are cancelled unbeknownst to me closed at the last minute. Maybe you lost an opportunity to meet weekly with persons in a local lock-down recovery hospital.

Before the pandemic, I was in the habit of “It’s noon! Monday through Friday at St. X Church and time for my meeting!” I was usually there and if not there, at the local hospital working with others or just meeting with fellow members of the Fellowship.

Our options are limited. But I can’t let this pandemic with its necessary restrictions dilute my Program. This year, I must re-commit to that Program—specifically to my habit of a more regularized “Alcoholics Anonymous schedule.” I have to find a way to enjoy the richness of it all.

JRA, St. X Noon

Over the Christmas break, I went to see Spider-Man: No Way Home. As a big comic book nerd, I had followed all the leaks, teases and news leading up to this new movie’s release. As a teen in the 1970s and 1980s, I remember how I related to Peter Parker. No matter what he did, it always backfired. Peter was a good-hearted guy but, he was ever the outsider.

The plot of the movie revolves around the world learning Spider-Man’s secret identity as Peter Parker. Its response is a mirror of the current state of our culture where we idolize or demonize people and divide into camps of love or hate. There is no gray space in which we may process, breathe, or come into our own truth. As Peter and his friends wrestle with their newfound fame, they must reckon with its fall out. Peter’s girlfriend and best buddy both receive death threats. The final straw for Peter is when all three amigos are rejected by every college for which they applied.

As Peter wrestles with the consequences of being exposed he realizes that he can ask his super-hero buddy, Dr. Strange, to go back in time and change the event that led to his big reveal. As I watched this unfold on the screen, I realized that as a recovering addict, I often imagine a similar scenario. Maybe it’s because it is the end of 2021 and I am looking back, but the temptation to fixate on the ghost of my past feels urgent. I can relate to Peter Parker in his desire to change his past.

The problem is that the past cannot be changed, forgotten, edited, or erased. As I recover, I surrender to the truth that the past must only be accepted.

I do not possess godlike powers to change the past. When I fixate on the past, I pretend to be god. I play the role of a supreme being who can reach back through the past, finesse the mistakes I have made, and in general, make the world a better place. Regretfully, such thoughts are fantasy rooted in selfishness and self-will. Ego run amok.  

Like so many people, this past year was a challenge. I started the year with so much hope for a return to normal. I longed for the time when the pandemic was just an afterthought. I dreamt of returning to in-person meetings, being able to worship without a mask and receive the Eucharist. Those dreams were slowly diminished and dismissed as we saw a series of COVID surges and the isolation continued.

Don’t get me wrong, there were incredible moments in this past year. I welcomed a new grandchild into my family and discovered my son and daughter-in-law are expecting my first grandson (the granddaughters still have him out numbered) due in May. There were glimpses of grace, mercy, and love in conversations with dear friends and loved ones. I have so very much for which to be thankful.

I have the wisdom of the steps to address these restless spirits of the past, be they familiar or mournful. In my step work, I try to honestly look at my past. I realize my addiction and co-dependency limited my ability to fully be present in my own body. I denied the very best of myself to those I loved most. I know that sobriety is far better than the illusion of a life which hides powerlessness.

This gift of working the steps sets me free from humiliations of my past failures and the unbearable pressures of achievements. In that space, I am free to give back to others what was so freely given to me. Step Twelve work expects us to lean into that calling. I do it because the community of recovery is stronger by doing so, not out of obligation. It takes the focus off me and puts it on the newcomer. I can’t help but think about paraphrasing Peter Parker’s Uncle Ben, “With great recovery comes great responsibility.” That responsibility is a burden I am willing to bear going into 2022. The good news is that I share that burden with my recovering brothers and sisters.

Thanks for helping share the load.

By Shane M

“I now realize that my former prejudice against clergymen was blind and wrong. They have kept alive through the centuries a faith which might have been extinguished entirely. They pointed out the road to me, but I did not even look up. ….the man who showed me the truth was a fellow sufferer and a layman. Through him I saw at last, and I stepped from the abyss to solid ground…” *

As I read this text, I realized that, even as a clergyperson, I too was prejudiced against clergymen. I pointed the finger at those whose behavior attracted attention. I avoided those whose deep spiritual life saw through my shallowness. I saw myself as one of the “new breed of priests” who understood how to be “one with the people.” I had no problem having a drink in a bar. At weddings and parties, I had no problem getting up to dance. “I didn’t make a fool of myself in public.”

I had read a lot about spirituality. I could teach classes on it. In treatment I was fascinated by the Chaplin who picked up a small bible, read a paragraph, and then delivered a brief talk that I never would have seen in it. When it came to doing my fifth step, I was informed I was to do it with the chaplain. I wanted to choose the priest I wanted to “confess” to. Then I realize the chaplain’s boss and mine was the same person. I rewrote my fourth step as I did not wish to tell him everything in case he’d tell the boss I was not fit to return to work. On the other hand, in his office, I learned much about him from his library to tell me he was more open minded than I considered him to be.

Going to AA meetings, reading the big book and 12X12, I believed I would be of great help to “these people” given my background as a priest and addictions counselor. I was asked to chair meetings. I was asked to tell my story. I was taken out on twelfth step calls. I make myself believe that this was because I was so good as a speaker, that I was so knowledgeable. I really knew a lot – just like a computer – but I had no idea as to the depth of the program or how the disease had impacted my life. I could recall incidents that I could share and I could shed tears because I did feel ashamed, but it was short lived.

Two men choose to sponsor me and I was unaware of what they were doing . They would not let me go on the Speaker circuit because, as they said, "You have a big ego and it will kill you." I had nothing in common with these two men and yet I found myself listening to them, doing what they told me to do.

After four and a half years I had a Spiritual Awakening that changed my whole life. I came to understand that I am an alcoholic; that I am a drug addict; that I am in recovery. Now the path was open for me to learn. I learned that I did make a fool of myself and in public. I embarrassed my friends and they were too embarrassed to tell me what I did and for that I am grateful. I listened to lay men and women and learned about a Power greater than myself that could restore me to sanity. I listened to lay men and women and learned about spirituality in a way I never thought of before.

As I listened to the men and women in a variety of groups, I learned I am “one of them” -I belong here - and for this, today, I am grateful. Today, I am grateful for the men and women who have carried this message for many years. I am grateful for the men and women who shared with me their experience, strength, and hope and that I was able to hear it clearly enough to finally appreciate its depth and in so doing made me a better layperson and, today, a better priest.

Jesus did not baptize or ordain anyone. He sent lay men and women out with a message of love, forgiveness, and compassion. As religion became organized, it almost lost the basic story which was saved by a humble clergyperson along with lay men and women who understood it and, when the time was right, created a twelve-step program to highlight the spirituality of living, giving me a way of life to choose life and have it to the fullest.

*AS BILL SEES IT. 119

Séamus D
Greater New Orleans.

Our minister last Sunday was talking about our blessings. It reminded me about the nature of our modern-day Christmas and the sometimes excessive gifting of presents. Not everyone gets sucked into that tradition but for all of us, it’s a good reminder. We seem to just slide into the habit of giving “too much.” having promised last Christmas to “control” our buying this year. We try to monitor what we are buying, but it’s fun to give something as a surprise, to the family particularly. Maybe we had a “good year” and feel that we need to share our fortunate situation. Frequently, the “too much” aspect of giving just creeps up on us and isn’t apparent until all the packages are open on Christmas Day. And it is fun to watch the faces of kids and grandkids as they open that really special game or latest model computer they really didn’t expect. I suppose that some of the excess giving is just a mis-step, beyond what you usually give. There are lots of reasons we slip into the area of “excess gifting” and I don’t intend at all to be someone pointing the finger of “shame-on-you.”

One observation our minister made was the importance of trying to balance all this with special efforts at community service. Frequently, churches provide special holiday suppers for the indigent served by parish members. Bringing your children and grandkids to the event is a good way to remind them of the simple needs of others. Then the family opening of gifts is undertaken against this back-drop of those needs.

The homeless pull at our hearts especially hard this time of year. It’s cold now and sometimes we’re in the middle of a hard winter freezing rain and snowstorm. Where do these folks sleep? Do they have tough cold-weather-storm coats? Their kids -- they are aware of the gifting to kids but their own stockings are only half full, or worse, or by perhaps being loaded with cheap plastic jim-cracks. It is a time for parents to teach, to explain, to reach out, to bring to our own families a sense of balance and a joy that we might be able to ease the difficulties, and yes, perhaps, their pain, by simply reaching out and by assuring our families that others don’t “have it as good” as we might and bring a sense of participation by the family in service to others not so fortunate.

Surely, our Program calls us to serve others. There are special needs, always. Several years ago, on Christmas day I was sitting around our son’s home in Denver feeling sorry for myself, grinding away on some issues which could not be solved that day but which could lead me to that slippery slope. So, I spent much of the day at an AA club house. There, I knew I couldn’t get into trouble. I spent most of the time talking to a rancher from Wyoming who drove to the city in his pickup and “just needed a place to talk to people.”  Tons of folks were present and that meant a need for folks to bring a lot of coffee and cookies and cakes, to clean up, lead discussion sessions, and talking to that new person who had no other place to go, having lost his family and his self-respect but stumbles into the club house.

Christmas is a joyous time of celebration of the birth of our Savior, but it’s also a time to remember our good fortune and, following the importuning of the Twelve Steps, use it responsibility to reach out to others, including our families.

JRA, ST X Noon, Cincinnati

The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, Generous inside and out, true from start to finish.

John 1:14 (The Message)

This past weekend I began to go through the remains of my recently closed-out storage room. In the background of that task, I decided to listen to the audiobook, The Universal Christ, by Father Richard Rohr. I thought I would be in an excellent place to fill my heart with this powerful truth as I emptied the boxes from my past.

As I unpacked my life, so many memories rushed through my brain and emotions flooded my heart. Many of these boxes held the items of a life I had not visited in over 10 years. They included both the remnants of my career as an addicted evangelical pastor and a man who lived in denial of his sexual identity. The boxes contained the ghosts of the past. I was both Scrooge and Marley, rattling the chains that once bound me.

I also remembered the joys of that life. The glimpse of love in the photos of my children ’s eyes. Rediscovering the blessing of grandparents who created a safe space for a kid raised in the home of an alcoholic. I surprisingly discovered an old daily meditation book based on the liturgical calendar and the writings of the early church fathers. Though I had no memory of purchasing this, it hinted at the hunger for rituals and traditions my heart desired.

Like life, the experience was bitter-sweet. I felt these memories, grieved over them, and saw them differently than when they occurred. As these feelings culminated, I heard Rohr discussing the incarnation of Christ. He spoke about three incarnations. First, the coming the Christ within creation. Second, the incarnation of Jesus within Mary’s womb. Finally, he described a time that is coming when injustice and suffering are abolished at the final incarnation. Rohr then made a statement that blew my mind. He stated that Jesus came as the incarnate Word, the “logos,” not to make us pious. He incarnated to show us how to be human.

The following day, our Rector described the advent season as reflection, repentance, reconciliation, and renewal. All my thoughts and feelings from the day before suddenly synced up with the sermon about Advent. Advent, and my recovery journey, is always best experienced as a continuum. Advent does call us to prepare and to look forward. But we cannot do so without an awareness that Christ is presently in us, with us, and through us.

Recovery also exists along a continuum. The new truth I realized this weekend is that while recovery is spiritual, the most profoundly spiritual act in recovery is to be utterly human. Recovery is based upon reflection (steps one - five), repentance (steps six and seven), reconciliation (steps eight and nine), and renewal (steps ten - twelve). All processes we celebrate in the Advent season! Before my recovery journey began ten years ago, there was the indwelling of a Higher Power, the Christ-Spirit. The same Christ-Spirit who indwells my suffering and addiction. The Christ-spirit who indwells the blessings of family and friends. The Christ-Spirit who indwells the heartbreaking humiliation of hitting bottom. The Christ-Spirit who indwells the pink cloud of new sobriety, The Christ-Spirit who indwells the journey through lapse and relapse. The Christ-Spirit who indwells the addict who still struggles. 

Suppose recovery is about the manifestation of Christ in each moment, relationship, and experience. Could it be that addiction, then, is about the absence of a power greater than myself in each of those situations? Is it possible that addiction concerns pride and self-will run riot, creating a living hell for the suffering addict? Addiction promises us that we can be like God, yet delivers a bait and switch as old as the Garden. It is the antithesis of indwelling - it is the abandoning.

In this Advent season, I invite you to join me as I attempt to reconnect with the call to incarnation. Allow the presence of Christ to seep deep into your past failures and successes. Acknowledge that the Spirit of your Higher Power resides in your present circumstances and shortcomings. Embrace the future grace of recovery as you surrender to, and work for, the promise of emotional and physical sobriety. In short, let this season be one where we are reminded that the fulfillment of recovery and the Advent season requires both Jesus and us to be human. Let the logos “move into the neighborhood” of our humanity.

After all, He lives there anyway.

Shane Montgomery

**The Message (MSG), Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson

It’s noon of that “day after” we all have faced when our brain was fuzzy and we found ourselves ashamed of our alcoholic conduct, as usual. We know our son feels the same this morning.

What should you as a solid member of Alcoholics Anonymous say about your son’s repetitive drunken experiences? You certainly don’t want to “fly off the handle” and make your son feel worse and more ashamed. Don’t lose your temper. Remember, he is an addict, he’s sick, and he can’t control his drinking. All he knows is drinking to hide behind his drinking.

Say nothing about his behavior patterns with alcohol and, if at all, not until you have done your homework on the nature and details of that conversation. Why? Because someone else may be “a better first contact” with the Program.

Put yourself in his position when you were showing up drunk. Would you have reacted positively to yet another shaming lecture from your parent? Would you have said, “O.K. Dad, let’s go to a meeting. Thanks for taking me!” No, perhaps he just used your shouting and anger as an excuse: “You’d drink too if you had my Dad …”

No, you the father, and long-term member of the Program, need to stop. There are many ways to deal with this but there is no “one process does it all.” Your quest is to find what works best for him, not you!

So, call your sponsor and discuss what to do. Grab the Big Book and re-read chapter 7, “Working with Others.” Get to a meeting of your home group and bring it up for discussion.  Perhaps the first thing is to get to an Al Anon meeting. There you will find people who have been where you are right now -- who observed loved ones drinking excessively and recklessly. Other good steps are having lunch with 2 or 3 old timers and find out what has been their experience. Perhaps your home discussion group includes a young person who relates to what your son is experiencing. Find out how his entry into the Program or first discussions about his disease of alcoholism came about. And there are professional organizations, treatment centers and hospital rehab opportunities.   

Why all the caution? Simple. An approach to your son not carefully thought through with the people who know “how to do it” can imprint a horrible event on his mind wrecking any possibility of a decision to deal with his disease until a later date -- “I’ll show em! I’ll quit myself! I’m not an alcoholic or addict.” Then you’ll find the progressive nature of the disease has won again and doing “something about your disease” is put off and off, perhaps to the even worse consequence than is apparent today. It only gets worse. It never gets better or goes away by itself.

So, “What do I say to him the ‘morning after?’ Nothing. Just get to a meeting of your home group and to Al Anon and get the facts and assistance you will need. That way you have a better chance of assisting with saving the life of your son.

Jim A/ St. X Noon, Cincinnati